Episode 5

Dusk In The Park

Published on: 22nd November, 2024

Steve, an old spirit, recounts the chilling narrative of his sudden, tragic demise in a hauntingly immersive tale. As dusk settles in the park, he reflects on the fateful day when a series of ominous signs foreshadowed the peril that awaited him. Steve finds himself caught in a harrowing encounter that escalates from a simple drink at a dive bar to a desperate flight through the shadows of Hell's Kitchen, pursued by menacing figures intent on violence.

Listeners are invited to don their headphones and immerse themselves in the rich soundscape, where every rustle and whisper echoes the weight of his regrets, leaving them to ponder the thin veil between life and the afterlife.

DRAMA: AN AURAL EXPERIENCE™— Season 1: Anthology

Episode 5

Title: Dusk In The Park

Featuring: Aaron Salazar as "Steve"

Written by: Jeffrey James Keyes

Original Score by: Manuel Pelayo & Giancarlo Bonfanti

Marketing Director: Madeline Corcoran

Associate Producer: Matthew Solomon

Directed, Sound Designed & Executive Produced by: Aaron Salazar

...

Presented by AKS IMMERSIVE

*** Please, wear headphones. For the best experience.***

Instagram Us: @drama_pod

Learn more about our Cast & Creative Team: drama-pod.com

Transcript
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Drama and oral Experience Episode 5 Dusk in the Park Please wear headphones for the best experience.

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They had a few guns.

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One or two, maybe more.

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The street was crowded, but I'm sure they would have used them if it really came to that.

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I didn't think they saw me slip out and walk up six.

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Just before I turned the corner.

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I checked over my shoulder, just in case.

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There they were.

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I didn't know what to do.

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I had two options.

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The park or surrender.

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Surrendering meant a bullet in the side of my head.

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They'd take my wallet and push me into an alley and do it quick, without anyone batting an eye.

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My eyelashes would flap two or three times as I watched the pool of blood form around my limp body.

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I saw it happen once.

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Opened the window off my kitchen on a Sunday morning and two guys were backing a woman into the alley.

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Must have known something she wasn't supposed to.

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Seen something, done something.

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Bang.

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One shot square in the back of her head and she went down.

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I couldn't end up like that, though.

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I'm lucky the bastards didn't see me that morning.

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I had a wife and kids in the other room, and there was rumor of work on the other side of Appalachia, in a town just north of Chicago.

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Iron mines.

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Hard work, but something I might be good at, far from booze and showgirls, back alleys and gin bottles dipped in the blood.

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I had a feeling when I left that morning that I should have stayed home.

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I had three clues.

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The old lady who lives above me usually wakes up at the asp of dawn, hitting those damn carpets of hers until they're cle old.

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Mildred Pandemonium, as my wife and I like to call her.

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Mildred was quiet this morning.

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Silent, and I can't tell you why.

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The second clue was the water temperature in the shower.

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The water pressure is generally pretty low, but on this day it went from a brisk 55 to a 110 in one second flat, spraying me right here, pushing me back almost into the wall.

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Stay right here, old man.

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Don't go.

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And the third sign was a big one.

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I was already out the door, said goodbye to Marsha, Steve Jr.

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And Little made and pulled the door shut when the doorknob came off.

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Now how the hell did sor Sorry about my cursing.

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My father was a sailor and my mother, well, she wasn't much better.

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I should have taken the hint.

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The signs the universe was giving me some God out there was giving me a nudge, a big heads up that wherever I was going was the wrong side of the tracks.

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It was a short day.

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I made the deliveries I was supposed to make in the a.m.

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in early afternoon.

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And had the rest of the day to dip my elbows in the drops of gin at my favorite downtown watering hole to south of the park.

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I ain't Talking about no 21 club where Mae west swung from the chandeliers.

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This place was such a dive, the cops didn't care if we filled our glass with moonshine or turpentine.

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Must have been just after five when they came in.

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They had a girl with them and she was acting kind of funny.

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Young girl, probably 15 or so.

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Lots of lipstick and clothes that made her look like she was heading to a New Year's celebration.

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She could have been one of the guy's daughter.

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But there were only a few drinks in and you could tell she was his.

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I shouldn't have said anything.

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It wasn't my place.

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Guys like that you just shouldn't interfere with.

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It's just I.

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I looked at this girl who was obviously scared and dressed like one of them Bowery prostitutes.

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I looked at her sipping on her straw with her bright red lipstick and thought of my own little girl.

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In a blink of an eye, this could be Madeline to Helen, back before she's even legal.

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I set down my drink and I gave those men a piece of my mind.

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Before I knew it, one guy was reaching into his vest.

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I looked up at the other one, had a momentary flashback to that scene I saw in the alley.

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I knew these men and I knew I was in for it.

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I was at the door before the guys could blink.

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I knew I had to get away fast.

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Hell's Kitchen was like the palm of my hand.

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And I crossing up and down around those parts like a pair of lions were chasing me.

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The one guy was fast on my trail, his buddy close behind.

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I ran into the big entrance to the park right at dusk.

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I tried zigzagging in case they started shooting.

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My pace increased when I passed the thicket.

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There used to be a thicket right there at the entrance.

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It's just a tree or two now.

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You'd hardly even recognize.

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I reached a place I thought they wouldn't find me.

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Just over there.

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It was getting dark and a fog was rolling in.

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When I was a kid, I used to love the feeling of fog swirling all around me.

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I stood there still, very still, more still than I had ever been in my entire life.

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I held one hand on my chest and the other muffling my nose and mouth, trying to eliminate Any sound, any huff, Huff.

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Huffing for my breath.

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Any noise could activate my potential execution.

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There was a rustle in the bushes and my balls kicked up to high motion.

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It's just a rabbit.

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I hoped.

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A squirrel.

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Something, anything.

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But I had a half second where I imagined Steve Jr.

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And little Madeline sitting in the window, looking down to the street, waiting, just waiting for their daddy to come home that night.

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Marsha lifting the COVID off a pot of boiling potatoes.

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One for each of them, two for me, her husband, their dad.

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It's getting late, she think to herself.

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The first shot missed.

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The second hit me here.

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The second hit me here.

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It was a clear shot.

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It was a clear shot.

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It was a clear shot.

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Two more steps.

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Two more steps.

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Two more.

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And I went down and I went down and I went down, down.

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They didn't eat dinner that night.

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Marsha fell asleep in the window sill with our little ones, our babies in her arms, waiting for Daddy to come home.

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You're not imagining.

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You're not imagining it.

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We really are here.

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We really are here.

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That noise in the bush, that noise in the bushes.

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That gust of wind, that gust of wind that took off the hair on the back of your neck.

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That chill, that chill in your spine.

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The shift.

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The shift from hot, freezing cold, freezing cold to warm again.

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That sounds.

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That sounds.

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That's something.

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That's something.

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Just isn't right.

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Just isn't right.

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You stepped into something.

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You stepped into something you never believed in, never knew as well as possible could be real.

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Every evening, just when dusk swirls between the trees and rustles the leaves, you can see a man making his way through the bushes right there.

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Shivering, shaking, wishing.

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Wishing.

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Wishing he had hugged his little Madeline one last time.

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You can see a man making his way through the bushes right there.

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Shivering, shaking, wishing.

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Wishing he had hugged his little Madeline one last time.

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DRAMA AN oral Experience Episode 5 Dusk in the Park Feature Aaron Salazar Written by Jeffrey James Keys Original Score by Manuel Paleo and Giancarlo Bonfanti Marketing Director Madeline Cocoran Associate Producer Matthew Solomon Directed, Executive produced, edited and engineered by Aaron Salazar It.

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About the Podcast

DRAMA: An Aural Experience
Immersive Audio Fiction
Step into a world of the supernatural, the paranormal, and the delightfully mysterious with DRAMA: AN AURAL EXPERIENCE™— Season 1: Anthology, a cinematic audio drama series sonically crafted for headphones and designed to transport you into spine-tingling soundscapes and richly layered short-form storytelling. Featuring a cast from Broadway, Film & TV, West End & Immersive Theatre.

Written by New York Times Best Selling Author Jeffrey James Keyes (Killer Chef with James Patterson). Directed and executive produced by Aaron Salazar. Original score by Manuel Pelayo & Giancarlo Bonfanti. Co-produced by Matthew Solomon, Marketing by Madeline Corcoran, Presented by AKS Immersive. Learn more about our Cast & Creative Team: drama-pod.com/cast-creatives

Instagram Us: @drama_pod or instagram.com/drama_pod/